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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351922">loose threads</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsumuthighs/pseuds/atsumuthighs'>atsumuthighs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Red String of Fate, arankita and sakuatsu if u squint, sunaosa r stupid, there's more narrative than dialogue, they're only minor spoilers worry not</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:07:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsumuthighs/pseuds/atsumuthighs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In more ways than one, Rintarou had always known that Osamu was the person assigned to him by the stars.</p><p>Rintarou knew this from a look at his hand — at the small ribbon tied around his left pinky, one end trailing across the room and making its way towards... Osamu, with his ash-coloured hair and a small, content smile, oblivious to the string that connects them for as long as they would live.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SunaOsa Valentine's Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>loose threads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for my lovely giftee <a href="http://twitter.com/moccaronn">mo</a> ! i had a great time writing this, ur prompts were great and gave me a lot of guidance with writing the story. the main prompts i took were 'soulmate au' and 'best friends to lovers', with a dash of a few others that are in the tags! i do hope this is to your liking, i've loved working on this story and it is honestly the first time i've fully planned and followed through with a story... sweats. thank u for inspiring me !!! happy early valentines' day and i reallyyyy hope u enjoy &lt;3</p><p>cw: minor swearing. inspired by invisible string - taylor swift.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Osamu,” Rintarou calls, his voice low, his face a somewhat frustrated variety to his typically bored expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From his place on the couch — legs sprawled over an armrest whilst his head lays on the other — the gray-haired boy gives him a side-glance. “Whad'ya want, Rin,” he says absently, a pen stuck between his teeth. His eyebrows are furrowed at his notebook. Suna crawls towards him on the floor, taking a peak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hard for you too, huh…” He trails off, sounding mildly disappointed. “To think I was gonna ask you to help me with that one. Guess I’m as doomed as you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I think I got it—” he takes the pen from his mouth and scribbles something down— “Easy once ya know what yer lookin’ for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna blinks. Looks at the answer, then Osamu himself. “I don’t get it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy has </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> look on his face, the same one he has whenever Atsumu flunks a serve. “Maybe if ya didn’t sleep through the teacher’s yappin’ today, you’d know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you, my mom?” Suna rolls his eyes. He moves around, grabbing a nearby pillow and finding a comfortable spot on it beside Osamu. "Whatever. Just tell me how you got that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As per usual, Osamu grins smugly at Rintarou, before carefully explaining his thought process behind the question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"...Okay, yeah. I think I got it." Suna nods, a few minutes and a couple wrong answers later, picking up the basics of it. He flashes a small, grateful smile at Osamu. "Smart guy 'Samu does it again."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure." Osamu grins back, letting himself feel a little proud of his teaching skills. "In life, you'll find, Rin, that having a best friend who actually pays attention in class will do ya good."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mhm," Suna's already striding towards the fridge. Taking two sticks of strawberry chuupet, he tosses one to his friend. "Aren't I lucky to have you around."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu catches the chuupet without even looking. "'Course ya are."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna comes back to the living room, and Osamu makes space for him on the couch. They sit there, Osamu sucking on his jelly fruit stick happily, and Suna looks at him fondly through the corner of his eyes. "You love these almost as much as I do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They taste great," replies Osamu with a mouthful of strawberry jelly, as Suna tears his own open with his teeth, "And you have them all the time."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou hums. He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens Instagram. Osamu inches closer, and Suna moves his arm so they could both look through his feed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Blegh. So many couples," Suna complains jokingly, making a face at yet another couple photo that has graced his feed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, Osamu laughs. "'M gonna get diarrhea," he says, before his eyes widen, "wait, no, diabetes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're an idiot."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure, but this idiot is helpin' ya pass Calculus."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"...Fair." Suna rolls his eyes, defeated, and keeps scrolling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's kind of funny," the gray-haired boy starts, a few minutes of silence, makeup looks and even more couple photos later, "We laugh about them, but I mean, lookin' at our own single asses..."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna stops scrolling and looks up to face Osamu, his face morphing into a look of confusion. "Eh? What about it?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu shrugs, tilting his head up to face the ceiling. “A little high school romance, if ya must. I don't know. We’re halfway through senior high and our love lives are borin’ as hell. Don't ya think we could do somethin’ about that, Rin?” As the boy says his name, he turns to face Suna.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou's expression is unreadable. His lips form a thin line, his eyes a little wide. He blinks, slowly, and glances down at the floor for a brief moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's Osamu's turn to be confused, but before he could ask, Suna laughs, loud and boisterous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"W-What's so funny, Rin?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A '</span>
  <em>
    <span>high school romance</span>
  </em>
  <span>'," he says in a high-pitched voice, the kind that's accompanied by sparkles and flowery sound effects. "Oh, how beautiful! Perfect for characters in a coming-of-age story, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>~" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu couldn't help but grimace, and he swats playfully at Suna. "Fer goodness' sake, stop it with that voice!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both burst into laughter, bent over the living room couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don’t be ridiculous,” Suna says after they run out of breath, his tone nonchalant but in a constructed, careful way, "High school couples don't usually last. If you find someone and you both like each other, then that's cool. But don't go looking for it because you want to feel like a shoujo protagonist. Jesus, 'Samu."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna's gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. His face is a little solemn, and Osamu wonders if Rin is even aware of how the discussion seems to have impacted him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou doesn't see the look on Osamu's face as he looks at his best friend; of concern and curiosity and an odd softness that seeps through his cool brown eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, mind if I snatch another chuupet?" Osamu breaks the silence to ask permission, already halfway to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, sure," Suna calls out, his gaze lowering to the floor with a small, bitter smile, eyes momentarily fixated on the single thin red string laying limp across the living room floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In more ways than one, Rintarou had always known that Osamu was the person assigned to him by the stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He saw it in the boy's eyes when they first made eye contact, momentarily sparkling with newfound life; felt the sparks on his skin when their arms had brushed against each other, leaving Rintarou cold and craving the touch; noticed how the world around them was a little more beautiful when Osamu was around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If all else, Rintarou knew this from a look at his hand — at the small ribbon tied around his left pinky, one end trailing across the room and making its way towards... Osamu, with his ash-coloured hair and a small, content smile, oblivious to the string that connects them for as long as they would live.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna Rintarou had grown up surrounded by red strings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wherever the boy went — so long as he knew someone within the area, at least by name — fated bonds presented themselves in the form of interconnected threads, each tied to the pinky of two people who are destined to be together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Naturally, he was baffled. What exactly were these strings for, and why were they </span>
  <em>
    <span>always there?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As a child, naive and unsuspecting, Rintarou had told everyone he knew about the strings. How bothersome it was to have them restricting his view (but at least he couldn’t trip over them!), wondering why they had to be the colour red, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t it just so annoying? You know what I mean, right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except, no one did, and his friends only looked at him in confusion before bursting into laughter; his little sister scanned her surroundings, and upon seeing the lack of strings around her, she cried hysterically; Suna’s parents had ruffled his hair with worried smiles, thinking that their little Rin’s imaginary friend had manifested itself in a unique way. He’ll grow out of it, eventually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the strings never leave. They stay there, in plain sight, for no one but Suna to see. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By junior high, he knew better than to say anything. He observed, did his research, and inferred that the legend of the red string of fate was the closest he had to an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Under normal circumstances, Rintarou would’ve called this theory a bunch of baloney. And yet, evidence came in the form of multiple, intangible red strings that appear on the pinky fingers of people he’s acquainted with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He saw it in the way his parents’ linked string reflected the soft, tender feelings in their eyes whenever they looked at each other. There was always love, their strings aglow with a consistent red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He saw it in his peers, their strings tangled beyond recognition — sometimes, Suna had to squint to see past the knots, only to find someone completely unexpected on the other side — and so the constant change in gossip as to who’s dating and crushing on who was unsurprising. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>For others, the translucent nature of their threads told him their fated person is kilometres, mayhaps even a continent away from their small, uneventful classroom.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The strings definitely had something to do with finding your true love. Rintarou figured this early on, the proof sitting right under his nose, tied around a finger on his left hand, not quite sure what to make of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found his interest piqued when he witnessed the exact moment where the stars aligned two fated souls together, right beside him in the audience of a high school volleyball match.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akaashi Keiji’s string had been almost entirely opaque, so Suna figured his friend wouldn’t have to look very far. He knew it was only a matter of time before he’d met the person on the other side of his string—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou didn’t exactly expect to see that person on the Fukurodani Academy volleyball team. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s a first-year</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Suna inferred, fit and eager and a rather skilled spiker. The boy’s hair was distinctively silver with black streaks, making him stand out, but the true reason behind Rintarou’s fixation is the string on his right pinky finger, dusted by a faint red glow, moving a little whenever he raised his arm to hit the ball.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna didn’t know this person at all, which could only mean…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He happened to glance to his left first, and there was Akaashi, eyes more alert than usual, his hands curled into fists on his lap as he stared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou already knew where he was looking. The precise, almost straight red line connecting the two stood out even through his peripheral vision, and he raised an eyebrow at how starstruck Keiji looked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The game ended. Fukurodani won. The first-year spiker glanced up at the grand stand, the pure bliss of winning a match and performing well in front of a good amount of people evident on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou could, to this day, recall the exact moment in which the two had unknowingly made eye contact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silver-haired boy was scanning the crowd, and Keiji’s gaze was only on him. Subtly glancing back and forth between them, Suna saw a newfound sparkle in his friend’s eyes, normally mild-mannered and uninterested. The other boy’s smile had faded, for a moment, and Rintarou’s vision had been sharp enough to see a look of intrigue and astonishment on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment only lasted for a good few seconds. The silver-haired boy lifted up an arm — notably, the one with the string — in greeting, and Akaashi only gave a shy grin, unsure if the wave was for him or everyone watching.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna studied Keiji’s behaviour silently, choosing not to say anything. When Akaashi told him not long after that he was going to attend Fukurodani Academy for senior high, he tried to look surprised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The whole thing made him wonder if his first meeting with the person on the other side of his string would be this... </span>
  <em>
    <span>sparkly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He witnessed Akaashi’s sudden interest, and although it could’ve had to do with the older boy’s playing skills more than anything else, Suna figured his admiration was bound to blossom into something more, with time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most nights, Rintarou laid awake, dreaming of someone who’d bring stars to his eyes in that exact same way.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu is in Tokyo for the All-Japan Youth Training Camp. Because Osamu is a bit lonely, and they rarely hang out at the Miya residence without Atsumu instigating chaos, Suna is invited to stay over for a night or two.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And who was Rintarou to say no? The twins’ mom, whom he likes to call Mamma Miya, makes the best food, and is generally very pleasant to be around. Papa Miya himself is quite the character, and Suna wonders if Atsumu inherited his personality from his dad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, time with Osamu is always nice, so he didn’t think twice accepting the invitation.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They lay a blanket out on the Miyas’ backyard at 10pm, and as they shuffle around to fit into the small space, Rintarou notices the distinct smell of freshly mowed grass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought Atsumu usually does the mowing?” Suna inquires with a small smile, breathing in the grassy scent. “I doubt he’d have the time to do it before leaving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, he didn’t,” comes Osamu’s reply, his voice soft. “Figured we’d go stargazin’, so I did it. No grass blades an’ less bugs to bother us this way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shy smile on Osamu’s face spreads to Rintarou’s own, and he laughs. “How considerate of you. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu looks at him, his grin going softer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the cold winter air, Rintarou's cheeks feel warm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's a clear winter's night. Stars are scattered across the dark sky, like the universe’s freckles. Suna can form a few shapes from the bright dots, but he doesn’t know shit about constellations, so he gives them his own names. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That one’s a shopping trolley. And that’s a spoon. There’s a box, and an arrow…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s pretty,” he hears Osamu mutter absentmindedly, smiling up at the sky, his brown eyes reflecting the stars he’d been admiring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna lets his gaze linger a moment longer than he normally would. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Breathtaking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A comfortable silence settles between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou is used to the familiarity of Osamu next to him, but the moon shines a new light on his best friend’s face. Suna sees him… differently, today. His eyes are brighter, an odd warmth present, contrasting its cooler brown tone. His lips curve up in a small, content smile, even softer than the ones he gives Rintarou, and… Suna almost envies the nighttime sky for bringing this side out of Samu.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A moonlit Osamu under the stars is a sight he’d want to see again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna lets himself become increasingly aware of the red string on their pinkies, glowing brightly, as if to remind him of their shared fate; of the sole reason he feels so drawn to Osamu right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...I’m quittin’ volleyball after high school.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu breaks the silence suddenly, and Suna startles. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Huh?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a small smile on the boy’s lips, his eyes still glued to the stars. “Ya heard me right, Rin. Yer that surprised?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Suna trails off. He thinks about it. “You’re an extremely good player. Although…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come to think of it, Osamu’s passions had always seemed to lie elsewhere.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what are you gonna do, then?” Rintarou asks instead, watching his friend’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s expression is resolute when he says, “I wanna make food.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Rintarou eyes turn fond, because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If anyone’s gonna quit volleyball for food, it’s Osamu, and he has every right and reason to do so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s great, Samu.” Suna says, and he means it. “Good luck with that. I’m sure you’ll make some great stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally turns to face Rintarou, and the pure happiness in Osamu’s eyes gives him a weird, mushy feeling in his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew ya’d understand.” His grin shines enough to rival the stars, but then it falters, and Suna wishes he’d smiled a little longer. “I… I don’t know about Tsumu, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, that’s a whole different problem</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “He thinks you’re playing together even after high school.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu makes a quiet noise of agreement. “It’s gonna crush him. I feel kinda shitty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t feel horrible about having your own dreams.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...I know.” A sigh. “It’s… he’s always cared about volleyball more than I have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He won’t be happy,” Suna says bluntly, because Osamu knows Atsumu better than anyone, “But you need to tell him at some point.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Osamu agrees, but his voice is laced with worry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly, Suna moves his right hand, places it over his friend’s own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have time,” He whispers into the night, avoiding his friend’s flustered gaze. “It’ll be okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s silent again for a time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s hand is warm, and Rintarou wants to thread his fingers through the other boy’s, before realising it’s a stupid idea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” whispers Osamu, his voice a little hoarse, and his eyes land on their hands briefly before looking up at the stars again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou slowly retracts his hand, shoving it in his jacket pocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what about you, Rin?” Osamu inquires this time, “Are ya gonna keep playin’ volleyball?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna nods, not thinking twice about it. “I think… volleyball is something I wanna do for a while.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s good. Ya know I’ll support ya.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know if it’s the stars — or the warm look on Osamu’s face — that make him talk, but Rintarou finds himself opening up to Osamu, unprompted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’ll go to a Tokyo-based team,” he says quietly, not knowing why he’s saying this, “It would be nice to see my family more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu nods, his smile sympathetic. “Ya must miss them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wonder how my sister’s doing. It’s… It’s weird seeing her each time, looking more grown up. And stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It must be,” he replies, “Annoying as he is, it’d be pretty weird without Tsumu around. Yer sister probably thinks about ya a lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou hums in response. “I need to call them more, to be honest… I haven’t been in touch as much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They know yer busy these days,” says Osamu, placing a comforting hand on Suna’s shoulder, “I’m sure they get it. Should probably call when ya can, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s gotten chillier. Suna wraps his arms around his torso, trying to shield himself from the frosty winds. He thought his clothes would suffice…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s hand on his shoulder shifts. He puts his arm around Rintarou’s shoulder, gently tugging him closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thinking only of Osamu’s body warmth (</span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> his best to, anyway, with the string glowing as red as his face right now, probably), Suna allows himself to inch closer, resting his head on Osamu’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Samu…” Rintarou starts, a mere whisper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu hears it, though, and he spares his friend a questioning side glance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Uh</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Suna knows what he wants to say, and it’s not… He really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> shouldn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he continues, he’ll have to deal with the unwanted questions about Osamu’s own string, which... He doesn’t need to tell him about. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not right now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not when it’s so peaceful and calm, and they’re both drowsy and vulnerable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, he backtracks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad we got to talk like this. Tonight. Thank you for being a good friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, that makes the two of us. M’glad to have ya,” comes Osamu’s mumbled, tired reply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou turns away, then, and doesn’t see the look Osamu gives him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes are sad, and somewhat hopeful, searching Suna’s face for unsaid words, hidden feelings. While what he had said was true, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s not what he’d been meaning to say. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh well</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks, trying to ease his disappointment. Rin would tell him in time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stay silent, admiring the stars, and a few minutes pass before Osamu breaks the silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Rin,” he calls out, before turning to face Rintarou properly, “what was it like movin’ to Hyogo?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the time came to pick a school for senior high, Suna was scouted by a representative for Inarizaki High. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re a good player. We’d love to have you on the team,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In all honesty, there was not all that much to think about — Inarizaki High is a strong school in terms of volleyball, and has consistently qualified for national tournaments. He’d heard enough about the school to want to attend. Rintarou also happened to have an auntie and uncle living close by, meaning that after consulting with them, he’d have a definite place to stay. Also...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>During a visit once, years ago, Rintarou had found himself drawn to the place. Until then, he wasn’t quite sure why, but he saw it as an opportunity to feed the curiosity that always stayed at the back of his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no reason for his parents to disagree, so after a tearful send-off — and a hundred </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’ll miss you’</span>
  </em>
  <span>s, just in case he forgot — Suna Rintarou took his bags and went to Hyogo.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>His string when he was in Tokyo was translucent. At most, it had been light pink; never becoming the intact, deeper red colour that his parents’ string had always been. It glowed a bit, sometimes, but not long enough to be of note. Suna figured they were just somewhere far — his soulmate — somewhere he’s still yet to go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But when he arrived at Hyogo, the string grew opaque, and stayed that way. Suna startled, realised his supposed soulmate is probably, no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> nearby--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--Not long after, he caught sight of one Miya Osamu — bickering with someone who looks identical to him except for their hair colour — and Suna’s attention was on him entirely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a breezy spring day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna sat under a tree at a local park, a strawberry-flavoured ice pop shoved halfway into his mouth, soft music playing through his earphones. He’s partly drifting off, partly people-watching, and Suna was mostly disinterested - until his eyes landed on a mop of grey hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy dragged his sneakers across the sidewalk, a whining blonde with an eerily similar face in toll. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna found himself staring, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> because of his good looks, but his pinky finger was bound by a thin red string — one that his vision had grown very familiar with — and from his peripheral view, Rintarou saw the stranger’s string moving towards the grass, towards the very tree he was under. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a gulp, Rintarou looked down at his own left hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he looked back up, cool brown eyes were looking at him curiously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou could’ve sworn the boy’s eyes widened for just a moment, a startling flicker before it was gone. For that split second, electricity shot through his entire body, and Suna almost found himself seeing stars midday.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy averted his gaze first, giving his attention back to his companion (twin brother, most likely.) Suna glanced down again, frowning at his sticky fingers from the melted ice block, and watched the string move until it was no longer as vibrant red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried to let the thought go, willing himself to forget about the encounter. His heartbeat had only barely gone back to normal, and it was then that Suna became aware of the breath he was holding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When will I see him again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Come the first day of high school, Rintarou found himself in the same class as the boy with the ash-coloured hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddammit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they were seatmates.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miya Osamu introduced himself, any memory of their minute-long staredown seemingly having flown right by his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna tried not to act hyper-aware by making minimal eye-contact and forcing his voice to sound at least mildly disinterested throughout their classes together…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>…and had to keep doing it during breaks, because Osamu quickly realised he doesn’t have any friends, and invited Suna along to eat lunch with his obnoxious twin brother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon being introduced, Suna saw a translucent string appear on Atsumu, identical to his own not long ago. In his head, he prayed Atsumu’s soulmate could handle such a loudmouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he found out the twins were also going to be in the volleyball team — one he’d traveled </span>
  <em>
    <span>several</span>
  </em>
  <span> hundred kilometres for, at that — Rintarou decided that by all means, he had to disregard his and Osamu’s shared string entirely. He couldn’t make things awkward for them by letting the boy know what he knew, or acting weird </span>
  <em>
    <span>because</span>
  </em>
  <span> of what he knew, since they were going to be spending their school days together, and that would be much too awkward for Suna to handle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, they became friends. Good friends, by the end of first year, and by their second Suna would say Osamu is his closest companion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Suna ever caught his eyes lingering on parts of Osamu, longing for the kind of intimacy that friends could never reach, he looked away and chose not to acknowledge it.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s their third year at Inarizaki. Suna finds that Atsumu, while skilled and charismatic, is a competitive and </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> petty captain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re goin’ all out with Nationals,” Atsumu announces immediately after practice starts, his signature smile on his face. “We’ll get good an’ beat all their asses! Especially Omi-kun, that asshole is definitely tryin’ to sabotage our win as we speak!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yer a dumbass, ‘Tsumu.” Their vice captain pipes in with a roll of his eyes, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> wants to win Nationals. That’s nothin’ special.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut yer trap!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou sighs, his phone already on the camera app. Just in case. “Why don’t we set some specific goals, </span>
  <em>
    <span>captain</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” He asks, exasperated. “We can’t just say we’ll go to Nationals without any plans.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scrunches up his face at Suna. “Don’t rush me, Sunarin! I was gettin’ there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did have a solid plan to back up his goals, though, and Rintarou supposes he was the best captain they could get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu’s a pain in the ass, isn’t he?” A familiar voice whispers right by his ear. Suna jumps a little, too aware of the warm breaths from beside him. His surprise makes way for a temporary lapse in judgment, and so he turns around quickly--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meeting the equally startled eyes of Miya Osamu, Inarizaki’s vice-captain, who is so close that their noses are nearly touching.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Haha.” Suna backs away first, grinning as if nothing’s wrong, because an unintentionally intimate-looking moment between best friends is all it is. “Sorry, you scared me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna’s too close and too panicked to notice Osamu’s puzzled frown, as he moves to stand upright next to him. “Y-Yeah, sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, before the awkward tension becomes thicker, they’re up and running, doing what they came here for; playing volleyball.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou is trying his best, but lately, it’s been so </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna’s watchful eyes are stuck on the way Osamu moves; fluid, consistent, reliable. His unusually scattered brain thinks about their coordination as they move to do a double block, the ball bouncing off their fingers and onto the court seamlessly. He thinks about how he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> to play with Samu, beyond the confines of a high school court, but knows it’s nothing but wishful thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wishful thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span>, much like the sweet, soft smile and the light pink blush on Osamu’s face as they high-five each other after a successful block, filtered through Suna's brain as the type of affection he's never going to get; manifested by the yearning in his eyes when he lifts both arms up to block and sees the red string’s distance shorten between them, both sides of the thread moving perfectly in sync, just as they do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally admits to himself that he feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> sort of admiration towards his best friend, Rintarou rapidly realises it's not just about volleyball, no matter how hard he denies it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is no use, when he steals glances during class and grins ever so tenderly on the occasion he’s caught, eyes soft and shining with sweet little nothings he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> are better left unsaid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he’d whisper to himself on quiet late nights, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Miya Rintarou,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> wondering if it’d sound good coming from Osamu’s lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s lips cause him to fall through a new rabbithole entirely, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, friends don’t think about kissing their friends this often.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s tried so, so hard, all these years, to not let the strings get the better of his feelings. It always felt like he was cheating, in some way, being able to tell whose fates were supposed to be connected with as little as one look and a name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He even questions its validity at times; sure, many happy, old couples he’d seen were held together by the red strings. But he’s seen others who’d been discontent regardless, their shared strings appearing like cursed chains that tie them down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna has seen a variety of string situations. Those who’ve been stuck with a knot in the way for years. Strings that have been cut short, much like the life of the person on the other side. Those that stay as friends, but still raise each other up with a love that simply isn’t romantic. People who hold each other’s hand and </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, though their strings aren’t quite attached, falling limp from both pinkies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Loose threads</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Rintarou encounters those the most. It still baffles him, how he was given this power to see what kind of people will make those around him happy, and yet he still sees true bliss in those who go against this supposed secret to a fulfilling romance. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> them reject fate and be happy in spite of it all — </span>
  <em>
    <span>so is there even a true destiny in the first place</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he thinks about it this way, he doesn’t want to risk telling Osamu, about the strings nor his feelings. Not while he can still see these damned strings; when he could easily watch the exact moment that Osamu breaks free from him, their connection severed, the red fading away, as the boy walks away and leaves them both with matching loose threads.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They spend the entirety of their third year dancing around each other, Suna knowingly shifting away when he knows he’s getting too close. Osamu respects him, thinks the boundaries come from a lack of interest on Rintarou’s part, and that’s fine. Why waste a perfectly good friendship over unrequited feelings?</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slight shift in their dynamic is obvious to those who’ve been watching them long enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu complains about his bed being left messy after a sleepover. “Ya can’t just use my bed and not fold the blankets! Yer such a slob, Sunarin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna’s grin is cheeky when he says, “You aren’t gonna make your guest clean up after your </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> filth, aren’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His twin makes a noise of agreement, smug smile on his stupid face, and Atsumu sighs, knowing better than to try and get Osamu to take his side. “Whatever. Have a nice walk home, Sunarin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh.Thanks, I will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But as he walks home, the blonde twin observes Osamu’s longing glance at the window with concern, knowing they used to share Osamu’s tight bottom bunk even on hot summer nights. And that Osamu never felt like their time spent together was enough, so he’d walk him home just to be able to be with Sunarin a little longer.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginjima asks them once over lunch, “Hey, did something happen? Yer both bein’ weird. Didja break up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna chokes on his strawberry milk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s eyes grow wide, but he swallows his food before answering, “What are ya on about, Gin? Rin and I aren’t datin’, never were.” There’s a tinge of sadness in his voice, carefully masked by crafted nonchalance. “And there’s nothin’ weird goin’ on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold yer horses, ya </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> datin’?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No??” Suna turns pink at the thought, but looks incredulously at Ginjima. “What the hell made you think that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy just shakes his head, frowning at his food. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Come Spring Nationals, they beat Karasuno in the third round, and the entirety of Inarizaki relishes in the win. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their previous seniors had come to watch them, too, so it was a better time than any to show how hard the team had worked all year to take back their victory from those crows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they witness their reactions from the grandstand, Aran raises an eyebrow when he sees Suna stiffen after a thoughtless hug from Osamu, running on the leftover energy of a long, difficult match. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d hug back, not long after, but the fact he’d hesitate at all is already kind of odd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aran turns to Kita, whose facial expression remains subtle, but he sees the slight furrow between his brows. The expression stays on his face long enough that the taller man figures he isn’t troubled by the two boys' awkward hug, at least not solely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smoothens the worried wrinkle on Shinsuke’s face with his finger. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Their string is duller.” Kita frowns at them, lacing his fingers with Aran’s. “It was so bright before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Teenage angst is a thing,” Aran tries to reassure him, but even without seeing the red strings, he could see that Suna and Osamu’s feelings are rapidly turning into stupid, hopeless pining. “Maybe they’ll figure it out after high school.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In truth, he isn’t really sure, but Kita’s eyes have a sincere gleam of hope in them. “Yeah. They’ll be okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aran thinks it’s endearing, and he’s probably right.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been a year since their high school graduation, and they’re at the Miya residence, both men occupying the floor in Osamu’s room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had moved out months ago, his position in the MSBY Jackals requiring a place in Osaka. He’s never said it outright, but Rintarou figured Osamu felt a little weird and lonely without his twin — his literal other half — by his side. Since he had a few days off, he figured a visit to the place he’d come to call home was long due, and that had to include the Miya residence where he spent a large amount of his high school years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their backs rest against the wall, right below the window. The lights are off and the clear night sky is their only light source. Rintarou feels a sense of dejavu, as he looks back at their night under the stars a couple years back, their string’s glow just a bit duller than back then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not surprised to see it remain bright, though. In truth, he never really stopped thinking about Osamu. Within the last year, they seldom saw each other, and Suna wants nothing but to catch up on lost time. There’s a lot of thoughts on his mind, and he’s sure it’s the same both ways.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They start out with small talk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou plays for EJP Raijin back in Tokyo. Like he’d said before, being back and able to see his family and old friends was the primary reason, but the team is good and Suna’s playing thrives there. He finds friends in Komori Motoya and Washio Tatsuki, some familiar faces he’d seen back in high school. It’s through Washio that he also reconnects with Akaashi; he’s not surprised to see that Keiji is in a steady relationship with Atsumu’s new teammate, Bokuto Koutarou, the silver-haired spiker from all those years ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In all honesty, the bright red string on their fingers had revived a surge of hope within Suna that had died sometime last year. Maybe, just maybe…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since they haven’t spent time with each other alone for a while, Rintarou is a little bolder and </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> touch-starved, so he shuffles just a little closer, resting his head on Osamu’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s hair had faded back to its natural dark brown colour. He took a year off to organise his dreams to become a reality. He’ll be studying next year to learn more about the food he’ll make. His parents are supportive, and Atsumu had promised to be his very first customer. Rintarou thinks Osamu is at his happiest, a huge smile on his face as he animatedly chatters about his menu plans and potential layouts and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I want you to be there when I open business, Rin,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and just like that, years-old feelings make his stomach feel fluttery and his heart warm, threatening to burst out any time now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s wasted too much time. This… this string had been here all along, assuring him that they were meant to be, one way or another. And yet, he blamed it for his miserable yearning, when all this time he had been the one that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou decides, a little thoughtlessly, that it’s now or never.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, Samu, I’ve always had feelings for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hand had been petting Rintarou’s hair soothingly, but it stopped at his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels Osamu stiffen beside him, eyes wide, his lips parted slightly. He blinks rapidly, a few times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou isn’t sure if this reaction is a good thing. Had he been too hasty?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya… ya did.” It’s a statement more than a question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Rintarou says, trying to sound casual, but his voice wavers. “I thought it was obvious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, in some ways, I guess it kinda was.” Osamu agrees, then he chuckles. “Ya gave me the goo goo eyes a lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he’s positive he’s doing it right now, so Suna quickly avoids eye-contact, his bright red face only shielded by the dark. “So you knew.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I did.” Osamu’s tone turned somewhat sad, then, and it hurt his heart a little. “But when I tried gettin’ close, ya pushed me away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou tries not to let the implications of Osamu’s words get to him, not just yet. He needs a clear head, just for the moment. “I didn’t think… I thought you would break it off. The string.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...The string?”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Suna holds his left pinky up, futilely, as if that would help Osamu see what he means. “The red string. We’re fated. I knew… I knew all this time, but I was scared and stupid. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was feeling brave before, but Osamu’s furrowed brows are making him nervous. Suna looks down at the string anxiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Osamu takes it all in. Rintarou is being more transparent to him than he has been in years. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rin wouldn’t make shit up, and his worried expression tells him it’s not some kind of sappy joke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Years. Years of pining, of Suna never leaving his mind, of wondering whether the idea of them would ever work — if Suna had really, truly felt the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The answer is here, and Osamu doesn’t want to waste any more time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shifts in his place to face Rintarou fully, and gingerly places his hands to cup the man’s face. “Rin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rintarou’s breath hitches. At the warm look on Osamu’s pretty brown eyes, he finds himself relaxing. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too happy and a bit drained for words, Suna leans in until they’re touching foreheads, his eyes fluttering closed. A non-verbal affirmation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When their lips finally meet, Osamu is smiling into the kiss. Rintarou feels like he’s flying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tiny sparks that were there when they first met come back in full force, in a way that’s exciting and colourful, like fireworks. Osamu’s lips are soft, caring, electrifying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, why did he wait so long to do this?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna decides that the less he thinks, the better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He melts into the kiss. His arms cling tightly to Osamu’s broad back, unwilling to let him go, and the man chuckles softly at that, caressing his cheekbones with calloused fingertips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On their pinky fingers, the red string illuminates the dark room, at its absolute brightest, as if it’s cheering for them. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once, long ago, Suna Rintarou had nightmares about loose threads, worried that his and Osamu’s shared string would split in two, as the ash-haired boy would inevitably choose not to be with him. As someone who had the ability to see through fate’s eyes, he worried, because fates destined to intertwine don’t always turn out well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, Miya Rintarou can confidently say that even if their strings hadn’t been connected, they’d find a way. Even in a universe where their love is built on split strings and broken destinies, their relationship would be just as delightful, just as beautiful as it is now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In such a place, their loose threads would intertwine into one single thread, tying them together, shining gold as the metal on their left ring fingers.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for reading !! i appreciate u all sharing this sunaosa brainrot w me. they r a little stupid but i love them.</p><p>also a few things in case i need to clarify:</p><p>; although this is canon compliant, i did make a few changes to fit the narrative i was going for, e.g., suna is from tokyo instead of aichi, and went to mori junior high with akaashi. sorry if that bothers u ! i like to mess w canon for fun</p><p>; i tried to make it clear with the difference in tenses used (present-tense for the current timeline, and past-tense for flashbacks!), but this story is told in a non-linear narrative structure because i thought it would be more interesting and i figured we would all want to see osamu immediately. as opposed to, like, halfway through the story :^) suna's backstory/flashbacks do make the story feel more full tho, i think! </p><p>; i was planning on doing more scenes but ultimately ran out of time. i planned every scene to transition smoothly into each other, but since i took out some parts it might feel a bit abrupt now. i do apologise for that!</p><p>kudos and comments would be much appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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